The Unsung Heroes of Halloween

Every
year we celebrate the many memories and products that have filled our
Halloweens with wonder.We list our
favorite candies, costumes, and TV specials.We regale our friends with stories of parties and bon fires.We even rank our top haunted houses and
pumpkin patches.Yet in all of our
stories, in all of our pumpkin-filled remembrances, we often leave out an
essential element.We gloss over those
unsung heroes of Halloween.

We
forget the treat-givers.

In
my long (some would say too long)
trick or treating career, I’ve met hundreds of treat-givers on Halloween
night. They come in all shapes and
sizes, each with their own traditions and peculiarities. Some are forgettable, others all blend
together in my mind as an archetype, and still others stand out like glowing Jack-o’-Lanterns
in an abandoned graveyard.

It’s
my belief that these Halloween warriors should be celebrated like heroes of
old, their stories passed down via the verbal tradition as a lone storyteller
gathers costumed friends and family around a roaring October fire. Even the ones who only smile and hand us candy
corn deserve respect, because they chose to participate in the most magical
night of the year. They could have
easily turned off their lights and pretended not to be home. But they didn’t.

These
basic treat-givers--let’s call them The Front Line--were the ones who laid the groundwork
for all of my Halloween memories. I may
not recall faces or even the exact candy they gave me, but they are the ones
who make up that fine meshwork of Trick or Treating.

My
friends and I (still young enough that our parents were there, waiting on the
sidewalk) ran to the first house of the night.
They had the front porch light on, and in the window we saw a pumpkin or
two, so we knew they were ready and waiting.
They didn’t deck the house out with many decorations--this couple
representative of so many others--yet did just enough to tip off the trick or
treaters. We knocked on the door and
screamed in unison, “Trick or treat!”

The
door opened on a middle-aged couple who, like their house, were similarly
unadorned. There were no costumes, but
there was a big bowl of candy that
they lowered and let us pick from. They
smiled and watched us scavenge the bowl for our favorite pieces, trying our best
to avoid the generic stuff like Smarties and candy corn. When we were done, we ran off, already
forgetting the faces of these brave soldiers.

A
little farther down the road, we found our next kind of treat-giver. Let’s call them the Absentee Treaters. These were the people who probably loved
Halloween just as much as the most ardent trick or treater, and who were out
making their own haunted memories. Being
that they loved the holiday so much, they couldn’t bear to leave the trick or
treaters wanting, so they placed a bowl of candy on the front porch with a note
that said “Please Take Just One.” We
loved the Absentee Treaters for their goodwill and humanity, but even so, by
time we got there, the candy had all been taken by one or two kids. We shook our fists at the bat-filled sky and
cursed their greedy little souls.

NOTE: Video below contains some language.

Further
still on this magical Halloween street that survives only in my mind, we
discovered the Experimental Treaters.
These were those peculiar folks that either forgot to buy candy or had
planned on giving out atypical “treats” for some other nefarious reason my kid-brain
could never comprehend.

One
such Experimental Treater in Brooklyn had come to the door of his apartment,
then calmly handed my friends and I full-sized posters still in the tube. He explained in a distant way that he had so
many posters from work, he didn’t know what else to do with them. Still others would plop into our bags random
doodads and doohickeys. I had received
pennies, floss, unwrapped candy, books, magazines, and on one frightening occasion
a condom. From these houses, I backed
away slowly.

Nearing
the end of the street, down into the dark cul-de-sac surrounded by trees, awaited
my favorite type of treat-giver: The True Believers. These are the psychos after my own
heart. The ones that were not content to
simply hand out candy. They were
compelled to dress up, decorate, create mini haunted yards, and embrace the
holiday with a fervor usually reserved for the children.

One
such family stands out in my mind as the pinnacle of my youthful trick or
treating. We came upon the house in
quiet awe. The entire front yard was covered
with spider webs hanging from the trees and spooky figures erected along the
pathway. Somewhere a fog machine hummed,
creating a low-lying mist illuminated by the green and red lighting placed
throughout the yard.

The
house itself had many of the die cut paper decorations that were so popular in
the 80’s. But they also had older,
vintage light-up blow molds in the windows: pumpkins and scarecrows with black
cats, all glowing orange and brilliant. The
decorations were one thing, but what happened next ensured I’d never forget these treat-givers.

It
started off low from somewhere near to the house, perhaps in the garage. My first thought was, “Why are they going to
mow the lawn at night?” But that wasn’t
quite right. There was an edge to the rumbling
sound. A revving.

From
behind a bush--still yards away--a masked man jumped out and brandished a
chainsaw over his head. He revved it
again, and then gave chase, screaming and laughing. Luckily I was nearly a teenager, and even as
we turned to run, we knew it was all a gag.
My friends and I laughed and ran around the front yard, dodging hanging
ghosts and the chainsaw wielding maniac.

Eventually
he turned off the chainsaw and lifted the mask.
He called out, “Come on!” and waved us to where his wife waited with a
cauldron of hot apple cider and giant bowls of full-sized candy bars. We hung around for awhile, drinking our cider
and watching the man scare the Smarties out of other kids. It was the sort of thing that probably wouldn’t
fly these days. And while I’m sure the
man must have known to holster the chainsaw when the kids were too young, something
tells me that it was the kind of prank only the 80s or 90s could endure.

After
some time, we headed back out onto the dark street, where other kids and
parents walked in costume, carrying flashlights and glow sticks, swinging
plastic orange pumpkins filled with candy.
This road now only exists in my mind, but I like to visit it now and
then. The decorations, the treats, and
the ones who made it all possible still live there, and it makes me happy to
know I can always stop by and have a cup of apple cider with them. More importantly, it reminds me to always go
above and beyond, because you never know whose memories you are going to help
create during the next haunted Halloween.

Wow, sounds amazing NLogan. You are most definitely a True Believer! :-)

Vaporman, he is referring to the video I embedded in my article (Just Take One). At the very end a recurring character form their earlier Halloween videos appears and rattles off a bunch of his "catch phrases" which contain plenty of f-bombs and more. If you need to remove the video, I understand.

Wanna be true believer here. We have always decorated the house to the gills; but confession here, most years we turned out the lights and left to do trick-or-treating of our own. We usually wait until our immediate neighbors send their kids around then leave ourselves and hit their houses. I trick-or-treated until a ripe old age because my little brother came around and was 14 years younger than me and well he needed someone to show him the ropes. Then my kids came and I still trick-or-treat with them. My years my little brother's years my sons' years = well over twenty years of trick-or-treating! I always buy good stuff plus i.e. good candy bars plus small Halloween toys to throw in the cauldron. Some years a grandparent mans the door as we make our yearly rounds but most of the time there are few trick-or-treaters as we live on the side of a mountain and little legs tire quickly. The spoils of the cauldron get mixed in with my sons' haul at the end of the night. For a few years in high school we had dummys in the yard and were mixed in with them in costume, other years we have had mini-haunted houses etc. I look forward with dread and delight to when my kids are too old to go and the parties/decorations we can do when we can properly man our stations at home for All Hallow's Eve.

I use to remember the houses where I got floss or healthy stuff. I'd never go back to those houses again. I remember the houses that were decorated I would go back a few minutes later and get even more candy from them! They would give out the biggest hauls, and I just couldn't help going back a second time. The thing that made those front liners awesome, is that they would often recognize me, and say "Back for more?" They didn't seem to mind putting even more candy into my bag.

Great article. It brings back a lot of memories. My grandmother lived on a street that was full of older folks who all gave out candy. At the end of the street was a house like you mentioned at the end. It was a younger couple, and from quite a distance you could see the eery golw of orange and black lights, and all the kids you would run into had different theories about what would be found there. It was always the last stop of the trick or treating, and the anticipation built until you finally stopped by there. It was always the best candy haul, and best enviroment on that night. Look forward to reading more of your memories.

I loved the breakdown here. We so often tske these participants in Halloween for granted. What would we do without them? I am happy to count myself as the neighborhood True Believer, creating a new theme each year for the kids to enjoy. I haven't taken to chasing them with Chainsaws yet though.

The True Believers are the best. They really did make Halloween extra special. It makes me sad that where I live now, we don't get many trick or treaters. Only a handful of the local kids come by. Perhaps if I advertise. :-p

I loved those true believers! Every year you made extra sure to hit their places. Yes, you were there to collect your full size (to heck with fun size) reward. But they made the experience so much more fulfilling. I once attempted to turn our house into that type of place. I decorated the sidewalk leading up to our front door with graves and spider webs, ghosts and ghouls, and a homemade pumpkin scarecrow sitting in his chair guarding the door. But since I had to go collect treats myself, I didn't get to enjoy the reactions of the visitors. I have a feeling their weren't very many, because our driveway was at the very top of the hill, and it was very long.